Page 28 of Tell Me You Love Me

“Do you think she’ll leave again once Bitsy dies?” Forlorn, I drag my gaze around and search for my brother. “Head back to New York once it’s done?”

Of course he doesn’t know. He couldn’t. So he shrugs and slips the mouth guard back in. “I’ll spar with you,Darlin’. Get my blood pumping again, but without having to sniff my own brother’s ball sack.”

“There’s something sincerely wrong with you.” Eliza begins circling the cage, bouncing and fixing her ponytail while she moves. “Guys, in general, are fucking weird.”

“Notallguys.” He jabs, knocking her off balance when she comes too close. Though his hit is barely more than a push. His smile, too fucking pure.

She’s the baby sister he never knew he wanted. And now, either of us would set the town alight if she ever left.

But who am I to say? That could be residual trauma.

“There aresomeguys in the world who are decent. Not us,” he volunteers, sweeping his leg out and wiping her off her feet with a fast, vicious move. But he grabs her hand while she flies, slowing her transition to the ground and standing over her when she lands. Then he grins. “Tommy and me, and Ollie, too… we’re all fuckin’ idiots. But I’m sure there’s some kind of prince out there, just waiting for his chance to romance you.”

“I’d rather fight.” She yanks him off balance and scissors her leg out to buckle his knees, then she rolls to the side when his two hundred-something pounds come tumbling down. “Men are exhausting. My sister has the right idea; she understands the merits of a rubber penis and avoiding men altogether.”

Drained, I climb to my hands and knees, then to my feet, while my brain swims and my vision turns dark at the edges. But I start toward the cage door before they pull me into their shit. “So wecan’ttalk about your brother’s tiny, naked penis. But it’s cool if we talk about your sister’s penchant for dildos?” I shove through the gate. “That’s how this is gonna go?”

“It’s how it is.” She stands over Chris and slams her knee into his gut. “It’s how it’s gonna be forever. Get up, bitch.” She taps his cheek. “You’re being a baby.”

ROUND NINE

ALANA

“Books Books Books…” I set my elbows on the newly cleared desk and my chin in my hands, and while Franky types away at the ancient computer, I stare at the ugly, peeling stickering on the windows that face Main Street. “Was there literally no other options for them when they named this place?Books Books Booksis the absolute best they could come up with?”

“Well… if we’re talking about metadata, I suppose it was the smartest option of them all.”

I tilt my head to the side and study my son’s profile. “What?”

“Metadata is the data that explains other data.” He stops typing and turns to me with a broad smile. “Fun fact: metadata began as an organizational system within libraries. Which makes Books Books Books not only a smart choice but historically, it’s cleverly accurate, too.”

“Honey…” I exhale. “You’re hurting my brain.”

He twists back to continue working. “If someone is driving through town and looking to buy books, so they jump to Google or even ask a random lady on the street, what do you think the first suggestion might be?”

“Books Books Books?” I poke my eyes and pray the new pain will distract me from the headache pounding in the back of my skull. “But it’s just so bland.”

“Says the writer,” he quips. “Of course you’d prefer something else. Maybe ask Mrs. Middler if you could change it.”

“Wearehere to breathe new life into the store.” Closing my eyes, I feel around blindly for my pen and the stack of Post-Its that’ve had a workout since we arrived this morning. Then, opening my eyes once more, I write;New store name? “I’ll ask. I want to mention restocking the fridges, too, and maybe updating the coffee machine to something a little less…”

“Broken?” he offers seriously. “It’s being held together by rust.”

“Maybe one of those automatic pod machines, so customers can help themselves. It would create an atmosphere of relaxation, and those machines are pretty cheap. Entice customers in with the free coffee, and keep them here to buy books. It would pay for itself pretty quickly.”

“You need to ask about Mrs. Middler’s grandson helping to move all the books, too.” He taps enter on the old keyboard and moves to the next line of his spreadsheet. He creates macros and algorithms—words he taught me—and makes it so I can enter the name of a book on one page, and it’ll automatically populate across a dozen more where needed. “There are too many for us to move on our own and?—”

The bell above the door jingles, drawing Franklin and me around in sync, but I doubt his stomach drops the way mine does when I meet the beautiful hazel glare of a Watkins twin.

My heart seizes, and my vision darkens. But it takes only a moment for panic to make way for relief. For horror to clear out and my lungs to relax. Those boys might be identical to the rest of the world, but to me… even after all this time…

“Chris?” I press a hand over my pounding chest and lean forward to look past his broad frame, searching the sidewalk in case the other Watkins boy—man, now, I guess—isn’t out there. “Um…”

“It’s just me.” He wanders in with an easy smile and a split lip—one is a surprise to me, the other isn’t. Then, closing the door, he glances to Franky and lifts his chin in hello. “Franklin. How’s it going?”

“You’re not Tommy.” He goes back to tapping on his computer. “You look the same to me. But Tommy is angrier.”

“Kinda ironic,” Chris chuckles. “Normally, folks say the very opposite about us.” Pulling a cap off his head to reveal dark brown hair, he fusses with the bill and meanders closer. Still, he leaves an easy eight feet between us. “Alana. Heard you were taking over for Mrs. Middler.” He glances along the aisle nearest him and nods his approval. “Got a hell of a job ahead of you.”

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